I have a bad habit of analyzing a problem, finding a simple, plain solution, and then stalling on that solution for days and weeks, rolling it around in my head. Often the solution will save me money in the long term but cost in the short. I have a suspicion I’m more attached to the problem than the money it would cost to solve it. When I was making New Year’s resolutions I realized I’m scared of solving the manageable problems I have because they will inevitably lead to problems I don’t know how to solve. This is all to say that I bought nicotine patches this afternoon, between home visits.
On a recent episode of the Tim Ferriss show, Tim interviewed Dr. Gabor Mate, an addiction specialist. One of Dr. Mate’s points was that addiction tends to represent self-medication that initially relieves some legitimate tension or emotional distress, which the addict carries on long after the inciting incident.
I started smoking when I was 14 at a friend’s birthday party. I liked the lightheaded feeling it gave me and the secrecy attached to it. I think being a closeted teen may not have caused the addiction per se, but it provided ample stressors for the addiction to take hold. I’ve quit 3 times, once for 7 months in college, once for two months while in boot camp, and the last time after I met the squishy and transitioned exclusively to chewing tobacco. Cigarettes are nasty, but dip is on a whole other class by itself. You’re forever spitting into bottles and jugs, your dental hygiene suffers, the pieces get lodged in your teeth and turn them brown. Certain handsome men you are betrothed to won’t kiss you — it’s a whole big filthy mess.
I’m tired of dip. It’s expensive, it ties your emotional stability to an activity that is secretive and repulsive, and it is more trouble than it is worth. I get very irritated when I quit cold turkey, and my job is essentially to be incredibly patient and kind at all times. I know that all it would take is one shitty day to get me back on it, so I need to relearn certain behaviors without it. No more driving, showering, writing with a lip in, but also no more jugs, no more tobacco scattered across my car’s console, no more refused kisses from the great and beautiful.
I’ll let you know how it goes.
W♥YCG 